


Red Sunrises

by whatthemeepever



Series: It's All Ray's Fault [2]
Category: Naruto, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Happy birthday RayShippouUchiha, It's All Ray's Fault, This has been spawned from her Tumblr Asks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-23 07:14:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23007733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatthemeepever/pseuds/whatthemeepever
Summary: Void stayed with Stiles and the Cult of McCall finds out and decides to Take Measures.Betraying Stiles again in the process.So void does the only thing he can, he goes home to the sacred forest and takes Stiles with him.Time didn't exist there and Stiles, curious and clever learns everything he can from his new family until one day someone new comes with sunshine bright Chakra reeking of well hidden pain and betrayal.Something Stiles is well acquainted with.
Series: It's All Ray's Fault [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1574932
Comments: 24
Kudos: 233





	Red Sunrises

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RayShippouUchiha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RayShippouUchiha/gifts).



> Happy Birthday Ray!

Stiles never wanted any of this. 

Never wanted to lose his dad, his brother. 

Would have never believed he'd be abandoned, betrayed, forgotten so completely by everyone.

When his new reality settles and his grief is spent he just goes numb. 

_ Still in a way that should be terrifying to him.  _

He doesn't know how long it takes for him to snap back, he thinks it might have been months. He almost wished he hadn't after the 4th time they've forcibly tranquilized him. Wishes they'd just knock him out instead of leaving him here unable to move,  _ bound _ inside his head. Spiraling over and over again.

It takes a while for him to pull free and shake off the feeling of the drugs but he notices the lullaby being crooned to him in Japanese that he shouldn't be able to understand. Feels himself sinking into the familiarity of it and God Stiles  _ knows _ he shouldn't feel relieved that he's not alone. That this kindness can't be anything but a trick, a new form of cruelty. 

But it's been so so long,  _ more years than he will ever admit,  _ _ hismotherssoftvoicewhisperingfolktalesinpolish _ , since he's known any form of gentleness.

"Hush now kit. I've got you." The words whispered deep from within him, but instead of being horrified he feels  _ warm _ . 

Safe and protected, out of focus memories coming in with sharp technicolor.

It's been  **_years_ ** that he's been trapped here, not months like he had thought. He's a few months into being 18.

The nogitsune never left him. 

Never abandoned him like it had been. 

Had decided to keep him, make him the heir to its legacy. The Spark that it had been so drawn to at first, it had protected and nurtured for so long now that it would forever carry an undercurrent of its power in it, willingly given.

And Stiles understands loyalty even when it's not returned to him but now like this with memories of years of the nogitsune patiently teaching him any and everything he asked for, gave every bit of itself freely to help him hide from the Horrors that his  _ Earth  _ had abandoned him to, he knows that loyalty has been returned by this creature of chaos, rage and madness. 

_ It makes him feel cherished. _

Stiles breathes through the burning tears that he doesn't let fall. Letting his mind switch gears as he exhales, asking. "So what are we going to do?”

Deep in his soul the nogitsune gives a gekkering laugh.  _ Oh the chaos they will rain down on those that have dared to harm his precious kit. _

  
  


*

It doesn't take much to manipulate things in his favor. 

They think he's a baseline human. 

That Deaton drank the Spark from his bones and that he's nothing but a null now, with nothing the nogitsune can cling to. Void finds it all very amusing to watch his kit jump through the hoops they set for him even as he twists them all up so no one can have an excuse to keep him there. 

They think Stiles is human after all. 

He's not  _ other  _ and when his less than stellar care is whispered from the Shadows things move quickly. 

Rumors that there wasn't an actual diagnosis for his dad to send him there for. 

That the records for his stay were nothing more than generic filler that repeated over and over.

That the intake paperwork didn't even  _ exist _ .

It isn't until they find the experimental treatments that were long, detailed and so very illegal that it shuts the entire place down. 

It doesn't ease the bloodthirsty bitter betrayal but Stiles finds himself darkly  _ satisfied  _ as he's bundled from the hospital into the back of a police cruiser, not by  his dad John, but a deputy, whose name is Parrish, whose scent-taste reeks of pity and muted anger. Void gekkers as Stiles asks, artificial hesitance and fear coloring his voice. “Can we roll the windows down? I haven't felt fresh air in a really long time.”

Stiles had to work to keep the twitch of his lips from showing as the scent sinks even further into sadness.

“Yeah kid. How about I take you the long way? Anything you want to eat? My treat...well as long as it won't upset your stomach. Rich flavor isn't good on a body used t-I mean...” the deputy stuttered before sighing as he trails off, wincing when he looks at Stiles in the rear view mirror, his scent curling around him embarrassed yet earnestness. Stiles gives him a small genuine smile as he asks about curly fries, Parrish taking the olive branch that it was intended as. 

When they make it to the diner the waitress that always was kind to him grabs him up tight ignoring the full body flinch even as everyone there that sees it makes their scent-taste sour into bitter anger and sadness. It makes Void perk up, makes him wonder what had happened that the townspeople react this way to his Mischief so strongly. 

The  _ leaks _ about his kits time in Echelon should have only made it to the official departments but if it went further that could be useful.

It's the work of but a moment to breathe consciousness into the shadows and have them hunt for the information they need even as the older woman hovers around his kit lamenting that he's much too skinny and that she'd make sure that was fixed before heading towards the kitchen, Void and Stiles both pick up the dark muttering that the other diners are saying about him, his dad and Scott. 

_ How could they do that to such a nice young boy? Claudia would be ashamed of John if she were still living. That McCall boy had something to do with it, I bet you anything it was him.  _

On and on they go, feeding into each other with the barest nudge from the nogitsune. 

Deputy Parrish looks slightly uncomfortable for a moment before Stiles draws him into conversation, asking rambling questions that disarm enough that getting actual information about what's happened while he was away nearly effortless. It's so very easy, Parrish answers questions and even volunteers bits and pieces without any prompting. When something is from before Parrish came to Beacon Hills another diner answers for him, not even hiding that they are eavesdropping.

It devolved from there into a giant gossip circle. When the old lady that lives four houses down from Stiles house asks if he planned to go to college that he goes quiet and still before answering. “Well I've gotta try to get my GED first. They ah, they weren't really concerned about making sure I finished school.”

Stiles looks down like he's embarrassed even as the scent of everyone that heard him shifts. Void can feel it, the moment that they all resolve to help his Kit.

_ It was almost too easy. _

Stiles gives a shy smile as he listens to Voids mad cackle, offering more carefully selected information. “I hope it won't be too hard. I had already finished some of the core college classes ah, before so yeah, I'm hoping that it won't be a fight.”

The kind waitress comes back with curly fries and a plate of food that should be easy for him to eat and still taste amazing. Stiles feels his eyes burning at the act of thoughtfulness, of kindness and he looks up at her with a wobbly smile. No acting needed. 

Void hasn't stopped laughing at the reactions everyone has had to his little Mischief’s performance but the moment everyone sees his tears he pauses in his snickering. 

They are so in tune in the singular thought of  **_protect/precious/howdaretheyharm_ ** . That the amount of potential chaos nearly takes his breath. That Void can't help but gorge himself on the feast his Kit has laid out before him. 

Void breaks off his thoughts when his Kit reaches for him with his Spark, seeking comfort that Void will always give without reservation. Wrapping himself tightly around the Spark bright soul as it quakes against the feedback from the diners.

Sheltering Mischief as he settled in the knowledge of not being maligned to the entire town. 

That allies will be easier to gather. 

Safe harbor will be granted if he asks.

The nogitsune pulls and plucks at the people around them. 

Nudges the energy into his kits favor and smiles, dark and  _ vicious _ . 

_ First blood goes to them. _

*

Parrish had apologized that the Sheriff couldn't be there. That something with a case had come up and he wouldn't be home until tomorrow at the earliest. 

It was a kind lie, meant to soothe. 

Stiles appreciated the thought behind it even if it wasn't necessary. He thinks Parrish understood the crooked smile he gave him, the acknowledgement of it and the truth of what really was. 

Believing the lie of kindness, while tempting, wouldn't do him any favors.

Parrish rests a hand on his shoulder and squeezes gently. The  _ if you need something _ and the  _ I'm here if you just need to talk _ unspoken but heard when he goes to leave, the burnt cinnamon sugar smell of muted anger lingering in his wake. 

The door echoes hollow as the lock slides closed. Stiles finds himself aimlessly walking through the rooms. He doesn't know what he's looking for but he knows that he won't find out here. 

That this is no longer his  _ home. _

It's just four walls and a roof with nothing but the haunted ghosts of his past and sugar coated nightmares of what could've been.

Void stretches up though Stiles shadow and reaches out to the house. It makes a hissing snarl catch in his throat at the imprints that've been left in his kits absence or rather the lack of imprints. Void pushes passed it to search the whole house and snags on something in the attic. 

Something old, warded and dripping in Sparked Belief that tastes so reminiscent of Mischief that it can only be something of his mother's. 

Stiles breath catches when void pushes the feeling toward him. Moving before he registers the action. Something of his mom's that John hadn't destroyed in one of his whiskey fueled rages. 

Something that connected him to her so deeply. 

That his Spark had come from  _ her _ . 

That he had something of hers with him. 

As he steps over the threshold of the attic as his eyes trail over the room. He can feel something itching at the back of his neck so he walks slowly in a bizarre game of hot/cold until he's standing in front of a blank wall, he rests his hand against the wood and-Oh _ Oh!  _ He knows that feeling.

His mom singing in polish as they work in the garden, the smell of fresh lemongrass and basil. Her patiently explaining how to make what they are cooking taste better by believing it will; whether it was happiness, health, and comfort. It's the impression of his mother's Spark, still so strong with belief after all this time. 

Still waiting there for him to find it. 

His hands slide along the wood until it catches on a ridge and follows it. The gouged lines of rune work comes into focus in his mind's eye, secreted safely away until it was time. The barest brush of power and the wall ripples and allows him to step through. 

The room is set up like a study. Books and trinkets overflow the shelves and every available surface. It's chaotic even as Stiles registers the method behind it.

It hurts to see how much of himself comes from his mother. 

Hurts to think that might be why John never encouraged Stiles in much since he took so much after his mother. 

Never wanted to allow for the entire half of who he came from to show, to grow into _something_ _more_. 

Stiles pushes the thought away as he picks up the open book on the desk, fingers brushing across his mother's looping whimsical cursive that makes him smile at the rantings of the neighbor across the street for not taking care of the plants in the window boxes. 

He remembers that day and her cursing in polish that she thought he didn't understand. Smiling he digs deeper, finding more precious memories of times he's all but forgotten. 

He lets the peace of the memory anchor him before he resets the warding and heads down to his room, pausing at the open doorway of John's room. The imprint is faded in such a way that tells him that he rarely is here. 

That the reason this house isn't really a home anymore is because it's become little more than a mausoleum to the memory of his mother and probably Stiles as well. 

Before everything went wrong. 

His Fath- _ John _ had done it before so it wouldn't surprise him that he would do it again. When he reaches his room it confirms it. The layer of dust is heavy on everything along with the scent of whiskey and bitter rage. 

Luckily only the bed and dresser are overturned. Some of his books have been raked to the floor. It could have been much worse. Nothing is broken. Stiles sighs as he opens the windows before trudging downstairs to find cleaning supplies.

He tries not to think about the message behind the room looking the way it does. 

He isn't surprised even if he can feel Voids anger at the slight, at the intent and knows it colors his thoughts just a bit. It takes until it's nearly nightfall for the room to be clean and the lingering whiskey drenched rage scent to fade enough to make Stiles’ shoulders relax. 

There is absolutely no food in the house so he pulls the false wall out of his closet that hides the water heater and is happy to find everything he had stored away in the duffle bag he started using to squirrel things away in after John's first drunken black out, that he started adding even more to after that night in the reserve. 

So he orders pizza because fuck it he hasn't had anything even remotely resembling that in forever. He's had a long day and earned it dammit. 

When the delivery guy gets there he won't let Stiles pay. Says it's a welcome home present. The happy smile undercut by the scent of disappointed anger and the supernatural flash of eyes bring Stiles up short even as Void basks in the chaos that it causes. Stiles argues with him into accepting a tip for being a decent person. 

Smiling as the guy leaves before returning to his room, Void draping himself across his shoulders to nose at the box curiously. “We need to plan. The shadows say that a receptionist leaked what the Sheriff did with McCall and Argents help. That's why everyone is so upset little Mischief. Since you've been away the Argents have left and McCall's gotten worse, only kept from jail by the Sheriff's word. No one is very pleased by this.”

Void trails off with a hiss, showing his own displeasure for the situation. It makes Stiles smile, soft and loving before he pulls open the laptop and starts a movie. “Let's not worry about it for the night. I promised to show you Star Trek. So let's do that for the night. Tomorrow we can work on crumbling the foundations of Alpha McCall's pack.”

They settle, content in the knowledge that neither is alone. That though betrayal cuts the two so very deeply that they have each other now. 

They aren't alone anymore.

*

Days bleed together as Stiles registers to take his GED and then for college. A blur of testing out of classes and finding something that interests him. He smiles along to the gekkering cackle that echoes in his mind.

During the weeks that follow Stiles had seen his father exactly  _ once _ , the barely there sunrise a red _ flagdangerstopnogetbackgoaway _ backdrop to John standing frozen in the doorway like prey, his scent-taste heavy with guilt filled self loathing and anger toward Stiles for existing. Stiles didn't speak as John retreated though Void made sure the illusion of something getting broken followed by heart wrenching sobs lingered in his ears and mind for days after. 

The bark of laughter that escapes Stiles does threaten to devolve into sobs after John is far away but the weight of tails wrapping him tight starve off the grief that wants to rip into him.  _ My Mischief, he had no right to your suffering or pain. Do not allow it of him to have that power. You are so much more than he will ever know. We will repay all those that have harmed us in time. _

Stiles breathes out long and slow, letting the promise settle deep in his soul. 

Void had never lied to him, twisted and implied things yes, but he never lied. 

It was why you could never trust a Fox unless you were one of theirs and shielded from the lethal truths they forged into weapons. 

It was the first thing that Void had taught him, had molded that raw talent into honed precision. 

How to  _ Speak Truth _ while using every other sense, every micro expression of body language to deceive. “I think today might be a great day to explore. Let's see how far we can twist Truth, we can feast on the Chaos that it births-.”

Void cuts himself off mid sentence and gekkers as his Mischief gets an idea, a whole new angle that they can manipulate. Shadows slip out among the town to find the prey they seek, to whisper and influence until they begin to move into place.

Stiles hadn't been idle, it is a great day for a picnic, a great day to be  _ seen _ . He packs up his college assignments last, checks everything and walks out the door. 

The bitter pang of his mother's jeep being gone makes him flinch, sold to pay for his continued imprisonment. 

Just one more piece of his mother John had erased. 

He forcibly pushes his anger away. It's not a surprise anymore the lengths the sheriff will go to, whether or not it was intentionally cruel or malicious guilt is a toss of the coin. 

Stiles thinks it is a bit of both. 

But today is not the day to think of that. 

Today they are going to the park. Today they begin to lay the groundwork to destroy those that thought they could harm them. Today they will picnic and work on college coursework in the sun on the first pretty day of spring. 

Just like all the families that the shadows whispered to. Just like all those that have been unimpressed with what's happened have come to enjoy the day.

Stiles has been sprawled on his blanket as he writes an essay for a good hour when the first little kid climbs over him and plomps down next to his side asking a million questions about what he's doing. 

Stiles is instantly charmed by the curious nature even as what he thinks is the kids name is yelled by her mother even as he answers the little girl's questions.

The mother slowed to a stop, watching her normally rambunctious daughter sit and listen.  _ Looks _ to the boy and realises this is the sheriff's son, the one that was hurt so badly, calmly explain what he's doing and how.  _ Sees _ the barely there scars that run down his arms.

Stiles can taste the rapid change of emotion the mother cycles through. Can feel the ghost of her heart clenching in maternal fury over when she sees him. Understanding who he is. 

Stiles just smiles up at her, innocent and protecting so much happiness at just being at the park that the mother almost visibly melts and it may be some kind of signal because the other kids the girl was playing with tumble over him, giggling all the way. 

The mother looks back at the other parents when Stiles says they aren't bothering him and hesitantly goes back to join them. They continue to play king of the Stiles mountain, asking questions the whole time until they all start to tire out. 

Stiles knows the picture he presents with kids draped all over him in the sun, he can see the moms with their phones. It'll be all over Facebook.  _ Perfect. _ Beacon Hills is a small town. The first outing he has is in the park working on college classes only to be invaded by children and then not only not care that they climb all over him but seems to be more than okay with it? 

The moms have asked questions and questions. Tried to get every morsel of gossip they can that Stiles was all too happy to give. Other's have stopped by to say hello, to check in and Stiles keeps pouring more and more chaos into every Truth he speaks. 

He deserves a damn Oscar for this. 

Void perks up from his chaos gorged imposed nap when he catches the scent of One of the Neishin. 

They are horribly obvious in the attempt they make at casual. Never coming too close, just in range of supernatural hearing. His Mischief is making plans with those around him, integrating so seamlessly. He sees the once brother clinch his jaw at the attention Stiles has garnered, no doubt hearing the whispered words of censure as they leave the  _ poor boy, how could his own family do that to him. _

Stiles never turns his head. Never looks in their direction even as the once brother's eyes all but bore a hole in his head. Instead he smiles and laughs at the kids that still cling to him until they are wrangled by amused parents. 

He's only a block away from the diner when he notices the cruiser following him, popping lights as he reaches the front windows of the diner. 

Stiles already knows it's the sheriff when he turns to the car by the sound of the slammed door alone. As John approaches, shoulders tight with aggression, vicious loathing drenched in whiskey heavy in his scent Stiles back pedals until he hits the window. The patrons inside, already curious from the lights, focus intently as John starts to raise his voice at who they now recognize as his own son about not staying indoors and away from people like he belongs. 

Stiles let's him scream the abuse, let's himself flinch back more until the patrons come to his rescue. 

Void is both delighted and furious. Delighted that all those that have hurt his Kit are making it so easy to bury them and furious that they think they can act like this in view of any and everyone without consequences. 

As Stiles is bundled into a both near the back, breath hitching as he tries to hide his giggling in a pretend panic attack all he can think is  _ Checkmate. _

  
  
  



End file.
